Chapter Twenty
Trust Me
Kacie woke disoriented, again, briefly sure she was in her own bed because Whitey was there with her, as he always was at home.
She lay there holding the soft dog and feeling the comforting regular breaths of her best friend until she had her wits about her. She sat up. Hayangi raised his head, too. Clearly, he had missed her over the last five days; he hadn’t budged from the bed the whole night.
She looked around in the darkness and saw that all three of her roommates were still asleep. Good. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.
She had won the day before, and the prize of a night with her dog, although worth less monetarily than Vegas’ knives from the first day, and worth less psychologically than Louie’s iPod from the second day, had really helped her to re-center. She wasn’t alone; she had family still; the familiar things of her life were not all wiped away by the strangeness of being sequestered for a TV show.
Kacie had won; she had been the best chef of the eight. One win on day three would be only the beginning. She had proven herself, and she had a real chance now.
But she wasn’t satisfied.
Holding Whitey, she realized that the wonderful dog was not who she wanted in her bed.
She wanted Toby Brutus in her bed. Hugging the man, the night before, she had had to force herself to let go. His trim, muscular chest pressed against hers, his taut back under her hands, had felt better than anything she had ever felt before.
There was no limit to Toby’s ability to seduce others. Even Hayangi had trusted him. He had fooled her dog.
No, that was ridiculous. Jindo dogs, a watchdog breed, were particularly prized for their ability to tell friend from foe.
If Whitey liked Toby, then Toby deserved to be liked.
Now she had to face the fact that Toby wasn’t a phony, that he wasn’t in league with Eloise against her, and that she was going to have to find some other way to deal with her feelings for him.
It didn’t make sense that he really liked her. Maybe he was trying to deal with stress by flirting. Guys did that, didn’t they? They could fool themselves that they liked a girl just because they were lonely. She wasn’t Ms. Right, but Ms. Right Now.
If that was it, then her best strategy to get rid of him was to put him in the friend zone, convert their flirtation into camaraderie, and nudge him into an understanding that he was a little out of his mind and would certainly get over his present feelings.
Then she would just have to get over hers.
Now that she felt there was a chance to win, it was her only option.
∞∞∞
About an hour later, showered and dressed in the freshly cleaned TV uniform, she entered the common-room with Whitey on his leash. The assembled crew and chefs, waiting for Maryann’s breakfast, applauded the arrival of the previous day’s winner and her dog. Whitey moved to greet Toby, then made a few new friends, before the massive shape of Ozzy the security man appeared in the entrance.
“Whitey needs to be walked,” Kacie told him. “I think he needs to pee pretty badly. Can’t you guys let me out to take care of that?”
“Sure, we can go together,” he said. “There’s a little park a few blocks down. I’ll walk with you. Someone should be here to collect the dog by the time we get back.”
“Who’s someone?”
“I think it’ll be your sister again. We sent a livery service for her at about six.”
Eunice was the family member Kacie least wanted to see, but as the only one without a job, she was the likely candidate. Most likely Whitey had been sleeping in her bed since Kacie had been away.
“Can you guys make some plates for us? I don’t want to miss breakfast,” she asked the assembled cast of the show. She looked at Alia and Louie, who nodded to her.
It was her first time outside in half a week. Manhattan was as noisy and smoky as she remembered. There was a tiny grassy space by the parking lot of one of the piers. Ozzy waited, gently teasing that they were missing Maryann’s dim sum, as Whitey did his business and Kacie scooped the poop into a disposal bag using a spare dish glove. They dropped the bag and glove into a wire mesh basket and walked back to the studio parking lot. As predicted, there was an Uber waiting, a dented Honda vehicle piloted by a huge guido with a chipper smile. Eunice sat in the back seat, didn’t even get out as Kacie unhooked the leash and guided Hayangi inside the vehicle. Kacie’s sister was in sweat pants and a Taeyang concert t-shirt and looked sleepy and bored as she cradled her Starbucks cup.
“Is everyone okay?” Kacie called to her.
“Sure, everyone’s okay,” said Eunice. She continued in broken Korean, “Mom is still crying that you lost your virginity. She wants Dad to come up here and save you or something. Did you really lose your virginity?”
“Yeah,” Kacie said, continuing the weak Korean. “I fucked like ten guys the first day I got here.”
Eunice gave her a wan smile. “Sounds like more fun than I’m having.”
“Anything about the restaurant?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Call Jinwoo and ask him…”
Ozzy was leaning over, at a respectful distance but clearly insistent on their attention. “We have to go back up,” he said. He smiled at Eunice. “Nice to see you again.”
Eunice said in Korean, “So I hear you fucked my sister.”
Ozzy, not understanding, nodded.
Eunice: “You want to fuck me too? I’m bored.”
Kacie said, also in Korean, “Shut up, Eunice. Jesus Christ.”
“I had to get up so early to deal with your shit. I have class in two hours.”
Ozzy interposed himself between the sisters. Kacie stepped clear, and he gently shut the car door.
The driver, about to enter the vehicle himself, asked Kacie, “Are you from the same chef show as that guy Toby from Mississippi?”
“Yeah.”
“Where you from, from China or something?”
“I’m from Jackson Heights.” What an idiot; he’d just been at her house. “How do you know Toby?”
“I drove him over when he first got to the city. He came in this really cool food truck with shrimps painted on it. Listen, tell him Salvatore said hello.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“Hey, you want to see a picture of the truck? I took a picture of it.”
“Yeah, show me.”
“Time to go,” said Ozzy.
Salvatore messed with his phone until he finally brought up a fuzzy picture of an attractively painted step van that, as promised, featured fire-engine-red crawfish and bore the legend “Crawdad King of Mississippi.” It was a sexy vehicle.
Eunice shouted at him from the backseat to get going.
“Sure thing,” said Salvatore. To Kacie: “Nice to meet you, miss.”
Ozzy escorted Kacie back upstairs. “I bet you miss that dog,” he said. “Might be none of my business, but what were you and your sister saying?”
“Stuff about our church.”
Ozzy tapped the side of his nose. “Riiiight.”
∞∞∞
After Maryann’s excellent dim sum breakfast of pork buns, rice dumplings, taro dumplings, and fried egg puffs, the cast and crew moved up to Kitchen One for a full hour of standing around while others were interviewed. Kacie got bored with all the “nice dog” compliments. There was no sign of Madame Queen until nearly 10 AM, when she breezed in talking loudly on the phone.
“If you go around me, you’ll regret it,” she pronounced to the person on the other end. “You are well aware that I am no one to mess with. No, no I will not be reasonable, you ass. The Kitchen Network is my house now. Goodbye.” She fiercely tapped her smartphone screen to hang up, turned to the chefs. “You.” She gestured at Ricky. “Put the camera on me.” She tapped her foot for a few seconds. “Set up? Good. I have decided that the worst dish of today’s ingredient challenge will earn someone a strike right away. Then, whichever of you had the next two worst will be in the cook-off. Why have I decided this, you ask? Because I’m in a bad mood. And you had better not annoy me, Chef Brutus, because that was your mentor I was talking to just now. My fat beggar of an ex-husband thinks he can make himself a part of my professional life by appearing on this network as well. Well, I crushed him in divorce court, and I’ll crush him here, too. What do you say to that?”
Toby worked his jaw slowly. “Well, I don’t want to get in the middle of that, Madame Queen,” he said. “I love both you guys.”
“You had better love your queen the best.”
Toby was in a tight situation with his mentor’s ex-wife staring him down. Kacie decided to bail him out. “We all love you the best, Madame,” she called.
Shelley shouted, “Vince, camera on her. Ricky, stay with the reaction. Okay, again, Chef Lee.”
Kacie repeated her line. She couldn’t help checking Toby’s expression right afterward: it was a damn sexy nod and thank-you grin.
They stopped shooting and transitioned to sound-byte interviews in the lounge.
During her interview, Shelley asked Kacie why she had spoken up. Kacie said, “I just wanted to get on to the cooking. I don’t know what they were arguing about.”
“Do you think Madame Queen has a real prejudice against Chef Brutus?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think she should blame him for whatever happened with Chef Winfrey. That wouldn’t be fair. But it’s none of my business. Madame Queen is so smart, who knows? This could be a strategy to help all of us excel.”
As Kacie got up to leave, Shelley rubbed her shoulder. “Now you’re talking like a winner. I told you you’d shake off that confusion from the other day.”
“Oh, I knew I would.”
But already Kacie was considering how to turn the lifeline she had thrown Toby into evidence he had been moved to the friend zone.
∞∞∞
The day’s dish challenge was kani miso, or “crab mustard,” a preparation of crab intestines in a soup of soy paste, cooked over a burner in the crab’s own shell. Kacie didn’t know that many Japanese recipes, other than teriyaki, tempura, and shabu shabu, but she knew how to make crab soup in Korean style, and there was enough overlap in flavor profile that she felt sure of being competitive in the challenge. She hadn’t made crab soup in a crab shell before but was confident of her flavors. She was worried for Toby at first, but then realized he was specialized in crab, and managed to stop looking over at him and trying to read his expression for signs of stress. That wasn’t working, anyway; when cooking, he never smiled, scarcely frowned, just looked intense.
Finally, she left her station and crossed to his. “You okay, country boy?”
“Sure,” he said. “You?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
His broth smelled delicious. She leaned in to take a deep whiff, then returned to her station. Louie, across from her, was sweating profusely.
“You good?” she asked.
He frowned at her. “My broth’s too thin. If I add more paste… Not sure. I was going to put in some orzo. We have time for a do-over?”
∞∞∞
Kacie made Koryo Burgers Deluxe for lunch, joined by Toby and Louie, who did the garnish and the fries. It was the easiest and quickest option. She told Toby that Salvatore had asked after him.
“Yeah, he’s cool,” Toby said. “How was it seeing your sister downstairs?”
“It was pretty fucked-up. She’s jealous that I’m out doing something, and she’s stuck in school. And my mom apparently thinks I came here just to get laid. It would be funny, except it isn’t.”
“At least she cares what you’re doing,” Toby said darkly. “That is something.”
“He showed me a picture of your food truck.”
“Hm. What did you think?”
“I thought it was great.”
“When this is over, I’ll take you to see it in person.”
“Sure.”
She hoped all this casual chit-chat while cooking together was signaling that they were in the friend zone, as per her new strategy to handle him, but had a sinking feeling that it meant they were getting to know each other.
∞∞∞
The results at judging were, as promised, more brutal than usual.
“Chef Camacho,” said Madame Queen to the camera. “Such a muddy and bland preparation of kani miso cannot be tolerated. Strike one. Chef Brutus, Chef Lee, Chef Wayne, middle of the road for all of you. Chef Chen, your kani miso was quite good, but you are not the winner. I shall give the prize to… Pardon me.”
She stepped off-camera to take a phone call, said hello angrily, and retreated from the studio.
Shelley rolled her eyes.
Soon the judge was back. “Our prize for today is dinner out with a friend of your choice. Our winner, with what is in fact the best kani miso I have eaten so far this year, is Chef Hamilton. Chef, a certain gentleman from your list will be arriving this evening to join you. He will pick you up in the common room at six PM, and the two of you have reservations at Eleven Madison.”
A certain gentleman, Kacie thought as Eloise smiled for the camera and the still photographer. Did Eloise have a boyfriend she hadn’t mentioned? That would put a new wrinkle on the blond’s flirtation with Toby. Smacking him on the ass with a spoon for the camera would not sit well with this mysterious boyfriend. A billionaire financier, maybe?
“We will take a break from filming at that time, so that you all may meet the gentleman.”
“Who is it?” Buster asked. He had a slightly panicked expression in his blue eyes.
“All of you should come meet him,” Eloise said. “It’s my dad, right, Madame?”
“Chef J.C. Hamilton, founder of San Diego’s three-Michelin-Star restaurant, Electricity Garden,” she confirmed.
Kacie had seen Electricity Garden reviewed in a culinary magazine, and seen a picture of an extremely tall, extremely Caucasian gray-haired restaurant magnate called Julius Caesar Hamilton. Trendy and overrated, she had thought. She hadn’t previously connected that vague memory with Eloise, but now it made sense.
Eloise had Toby’s arm. “Come meet my dad later, okay?”
Toby nodded to her. “Sure.”
Had he known she had such a famous father? If he was just learning that now, would it affect his feelings toward Eloise? He wasn’t the opportunistic type, was he? But then, according to the story he had told her, he had found his way to a successful mentor before.
Kacie’s stomach hollowed. Her hands clenched into fists, but she forced them open. It didn’t make sense to be jealous of another woman’s time with Toby, when she had just settled on a new plan to push him away from herself.
She vaguely heard the announcement that Louie and Alia were the losers and were going into the cook-off. That would suck for them, since they were sort of dating. Kacie would be okay if she had to go against Toby, she told herself. They weren’t dating. They weren’t.
She was putting this gorgeous man, who had everything she had ever wanted from a man, into a decidedly non-romantic role. Why was she doing that? No, it was best. If he hooked up with Eloise after all, it would hurt, and, she realized lamely, would hurt for a long time, but she’d be better off at the end. Maybe she should even tell him his way to Eloise was clear. Yes, she would. It would be hard, because she wanted him, no, craved him, but it wasn’t right to do everything you felt like doing, or be with just anyone you felt like being with.
∞∞∞
Kacie pretended not to notice that Toby was trying to catch her attention as she made her way to the lounge. She got upstairs on an earlier elevator than the other chefs, or so she thought: but the kitchen was already busy with the dinner food. Yes, she could help with that. But who was cooking? She got to the kitchen entrance, heard some tuneless humming, and there was Chef Buster.
“You my helper tonight?” he asked. “Ready to learn at the feet of the master?”
“Yeah, sure,” she said. She didn’t want to watch Toby meeting Eloise’s father. Jealousy was like a scab that hurt and bled when you scratched it, but that still you felt compelled to scratch. She would be strong and not scratch that scab.
Soon she was occupied chopping bell peppers and onions. Buster monologued about his greatness. Then he asked her to watch the burners while he went to meet Chef Hamilton. He was starting to sidle out of the kitchen when a bustling group arrived there.
The group was led by Eloise, holding Toby’s arm on one side and her father’s on the other. The two were similar in height, Chef Hamilton slightly taller. He was distinguished and handsome for his age, with a broad forehead and a full head of curly silver hair, dressed in a navy suit, blue shirt, and purple tie. He had a gigantic pinkie ring. Shaun Kerr and some cameramen she didn’t recognize made up the rest of the contingent.
“These are my other two opponents,” Eloise said. “Dad, this is Chef Wayne, our molecular specialist, and Chef Lee, our Korean specialist.”
“And burgers,” Kacie added as she took her turn to shake his dry, soft hand.
“Yes, Nina told me about you both,” said J.C. Hamilton in a reedy voice, kind of like Philip Seymour Hoffman. “If you get out to San Diego, come by Electricity Garden and I’ll put you at chef’s table. If I’m there, I’ll make you something myself, sounds good?”
Moments later he had breezed his way out of the kitchen and was down in the common area again.
“Well, now we know how Eloise got on the show,” Buster whispered. His bad breath puffed on Kacie’s face. “Well, all the same, I guess I better head out there soon after the show is over. Doing a stage for him could create opportunities.”
“Well, he didn’t offer us that,” Kacie pointed out.
“I’ll charm him into it,” said Buster. “You have to admit I have charm. People love me, right?”
There was no good answer to that.
Toby came up into the kitchen. “Got a couple minutes?” he asked Kacie.
“Sure. Buster, it’s all yours, okay?”
“Yeah, I got it. I was only letting you help so that you could admire my technique.”
Kacie followed Toby to the sofa and sat beside him. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to tell you, don’t make anything out of what Eloise was doing. They wanted some arm candy for her, you know, for the cameras.”
Kacie hadn’t had time to think about it, but she knew what her new strategy was for dealing with Toby: put him in the friend zone. She struggled to find words, but she had to find some, some way to cleanse herself of the distraction that he represented.
“You do whatever you want with Eloise. Whatever you want. I’m not in your way, Toby. You’re a grown-up.”
“I’m not asking for permission,” he said. “I don’t want permission. I’m telling you it was nothing.”
“Well. I was figuring it might be good for your career if you spend more time with her, since her dad’s famous. I want you to be successful, Toby.”
“And I will be, but that’s not the way I’m planning to do it. And I want to be happy, too. And that means – well, you know what I think it means.”
“Okay, I get it, but you should really think about that carefully. You know, reconsider it. We can always be friends, but Eloise can take you places.”
He stirred restlessly. “Just once, I’d like to understand what you’re saying for more than a few seconds at a time.”
“I’m saying we’re friends, Toby.”
“Are you saying that’s it?”
All she had to do is say yes, that’s it. She formed the words in her mind, but they wouldn’t come out. “I mean, maybe you should do what’s best for you.”
“I know what’s best for me. I know who’s right for me and who isn’t.” He shifted in his seat. “Okay, I decided I was going to back off some, after the other day. Do you want me to do that some more? You don’t want to talk?”
“No, talk. We can talk.”
He jerked upright. “You know what? We will, later. Just now this is too fucked up for me, you know? I’m getting some food. You want some?”
Kacie wasn’t hungry for Buster’s food. “No, you know what? I think I’ll go whip up something downstairs. See you later, country boy.”
She had to get away from his accusing look. It was just scratching the scab. She wasn’t hungry but took the elevator to the pantry and walked around looking at ingredients without seeing them.
Drifting around one corner, she crashed into a short, pudgy man with a white-haired comb-over. He was accompanied by a man and a woman in suits with name tags.
“Oh, sorry.”
“No,” he said, “it’s all right. I … Wait, have we met?” He had a thick accent that sounded familiar. It had to be someone she had seen on TV.
“I’m Kacie Lee, from Koryo Burger.”
“Uh… right, best burger in Queens. McNab debuted you, right? What show?”
“I’m on Chef Showdown. No, we haven’t met. I think I’ve seen you on TV.”
“Sure, could be. I’m Al Rokos.”
Of course – now she recalled him, although he looked taller on TV. He was Hammer Chef Greek, Alastair Rokos. They shook hands.
“I tried your recipe for tzatziki sauce,” Kacie said, although she hadn’t gotten around to it. “It was great with my bulgogi.”
“Yes, yes. It would be. You make bulgogi often? Of course you do. Oh, this is Celeste and, um…”
“Matt,” said the man. “Chef, we should head back up in a few minutes.”
Rokos looked mildly peeved. “Yes, Celeste and Matt. They’re associate producers, or something. We have to go, but I’ll see you when I’m on the show.”
“Sir,” said Celeste. “You shouldn’t…”
“I wasn’t supposed to say that, right?” He waved his hand impatiently at his assistants. “I just can’t get used to New York, rules and secrets. Okay, Chef Lee, don’t tell anyone, and if you don’t, I’ll make you up a jar of tzatziki sauce for your parents after the show’s over. Good night.”
They separated, and as Kacie walked away, she heard him call to her.
“Yes, sir?”
“When are we having dinner?” he asked.
“Come to Koryo Burger, and I’ll put you at the chef’s table, and if I’m there, I’ll make you something myself. How’s that?”
Rokos laughed. “Come to Milos Cove, and I’ll do the same. Okay, good night.”
She went back upstairs, and her eyes found Toby. He was sitting with Alia and Louie but looked at her expectantly and half rose. She pointed to the dorm hallway.
“What’s up?” he asked once they were up in that hallway.
“I just met Hammer Chef Greek down in the pantry.”
“You didn’t eat?”
“No.”
“You need to eat.”
“Just listen, Toby. You know who he is, right?”
“Not really. Should I?”
“He let slip he was going to be on the show some time. I think it’s supposed to be a secret.”
“But you’re telling me the secret?”
“Yeah. Like I said, I want you to be successful. Let’s just the two of us know about it, okay?”
He looked thoughtful. “Who would I tell?”
“Don’t tell your girlfriend.”
“My who?”
“Eloise. Don’t tell Eloise.”
“Kacie, stop the bullshit. She’s not my girlfriend.”
“No, I know. I mean, a girl who’s your friend. Like, I could have girlfriends, too.”
Toby looked confused. “I thought girlfriend means…”
“Yeah, it means that, too. I’m just saying, you can’t trust Eloise. You taught her your recipe, and she tried to use it to beat you. Just don’t trust her.”
“But I should trust you?” he confirmed.
“Yeah, trust me.”
“Why should I? You keep changing on me. I don’t know if I’m coming or going with you.”
“Which one is which?”
“Which is which what?”
“What does it mean, coming or going? Which one is which?”
Toby scratched his head. “You must know what I’m talking about. Why would you be telling me to start dating Eloise a half hour ago, which I don’t want to do, and now tell me not to trust her? Which advice should I listen to?”
Kacie realized she’d slipped up. It was impossible to play mind games with Toby because she was too drawn to him. “Okay, okay. Listen to what I’m saying now.”
“Are you going to flip and start telling me to be with Eloise?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to do that?”
“Do what?”
“Do you want me to be with Eloise?”
“You can do what you want to do. You’re a grownup.”
“I know I’m a grownup, and I know I can do what I want to do. I’m asking you what YOU want me to do. Do you want me to be with Eloise? What do you actually want?”
Kacie was unable to force out a lie. “No. No, that’s not what I want.”
“Then don’t bullshit anymore about Eloise. Okay? I don’t know what that was all about. You think you’re helping my career by saying that? I’ll take care of my career, like you’ll take care of yours. What I want is to take care of you, and you take care of me. Can we do that?”
“Sure. That’s why I told you about Rokos.”
“That’s career stuff. Thanks, by the way. But I mean personally. If you’re stressed, you talk to me. If I’m stressed, I talk to you. If you need to talk something through, a decision or whatever, you come to me, and the other way around. How’s that?”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
“Good.” He tapped the end of her visor. “Let’s go get you some food.”
∞∞∞
Seven chefs went up to Kitchen One after dinner for the cook-off. Eloise was still out with her father. Madame Queen took up her position next to a table with a cloth covering a heap of shapes that appeared to be melons. The judge announced, “Some people look good and let you down with what is inside them. My ex-husband, for example. Right, Chef Brutus?”
“I love you both,” Toby said, spreading his hands for the camera.
“Love,” answered Madame Queen, “is a mischief that arises when you don’t work hard enough to perfect yourself. What do you say, Chef Camacho?”
Vegas was pouty-faced from having received a strike before dinner, but responded, “I have a family, so loving them is what keeps me working hard. But maybe you know better, Madame.”
“Ah! Family. My own family, chefs, were kind enough to rid themselves of me when I was fourteen. They freed themselves for more agreeable occupations, such as drinking and dreaming of easy money.”
“Let’s move on,” said Shelley.
“I wish to impart my wisdom to the television audience.”
“I wish to keep my crew from passing out from fatigue,” said the director. “And the overtime is no joke either.”
Madame Queen looked at Ricky, who as usual was kneeling shooting her at an upward angle. “Must I hasten my words, Mr. Rybczinski?”
“Yuh,” said Ricky.
“Very well. Start filming, I shall proceed. Just as some people look good and let you down with what is inside, some foods are not what they appear to be on the outside. For this episode’s cook-off, I have decided that you shall both…”
“Reaction shots!” Shelley called. Camera swiveled to Alia and Louie, whose feet were on the special taped X’s reserved for cook-off opponents.
“You shall both use the fruit that looks ugly, smells worse, and tastes divine: the amazing durian!”
The director: “Right, now the reveal. Angle on Madame, angle on the fruit.”
With the cameras in place, Madame Queen swept away the cloth.
“Line,” said Shelley. “Derrick, put the cloth back on. Madame, ‘you shall both use the fruit,’ give me that again.”
They fussed till the shot was done perfectly. Then Louie and Alia went to the pantry, and the other chefs went to the lounge.
After they had waited a while in the lounge, Shelley cracked the door open and stuck her head in. “Vegas, I just spoke to Yanel. She said your son Geordi’s braces are in good shape, no problem. Kay?”
“Thanks,” said Vegas.
When Shelley had gone, leaving them to wait even longer in the lounge, the five of them discussed what they would each do with durian. It looked like a cross between a pineapple and a green coconut, smelled like mustard, onions, and decaying vegetation, and tasted like garlic caramel with chive notes. Pickling, ice cream, pound cake flavoring, sweet and sour soup, mixed with vermicelli, enhancing lamb, enhancing pork ribs. Kacie didn’t enjoy eating durian in general, but thought it would be good for an aspic, such as they had made a few days before. Toby didn’t say anything.
Buster fell asleep toward the end of the discussion. Vegas followed him to sleep, and then Maryann also passed out, still scowling from her discontent about their failure to worship her soup ideas. Only Toby and Kacie were left awake.
Kacie said, “What are you waiting for? Go ahead, go to sleep.” If he went to sleep, she could look at him without his knowing. Free from the pressure to cook again that night, and free from the self-imposed pressure to push him toward Eloise, she wanted just to relax a little.
Toby closed his eyes. She looked at him. He needed a shave. His ponytail lay across his neck. She thought he looked better with his hair loose. Could she tell him that? He’d take off the scrunchy if she asked. She could run her hands through his hair – probably even right then, on the spot, if not for the possibility of people watching.
It would be so much easier to give in to those feelings, to let go of worrying about victory and career, to indulge her attraction to Toby and not care if she lost on the show.
No. No, that was wrong. A woman shouldn’t give up her own ambitions for the sake of a man she desired. For centuries, men did things and women were there to support them. She, Yookyung Lee, was not giving up her ambitions for a man, not even the sexiest man on earth. Which she pretty much felt he was at that moment, though.
He hadn’t asked her to give up her ambitions, of course; very much the contrary. But it was only natural for a woman to think about US, not ME. If one of US wins, we both do, right? No! That wasn’t going to be Kacie’s way.
Derrick called them all to their marks for recording. Buster, snoring, didn’t wake up, and they left him in place. Kacie could already smell the reek of the green durians as Alia and Louie hacked at theirs with butcher knives, seeking the seams as best they could. Alia had difficulty pulling her durians apart, and twice Louie set aside his own labors to work his fingers into the cut she had made and tug till the jackfruit split open. Both chefs had small wounds on their hands afterwards and had to put on gloves for the rest of their cooking.
When Buster finally appeared on the set, Shelley tossed a durian at him. “Open this up and dish it out, right?” she told him. “Least you could do after the small dinner portions.”
“Yeah, sure.” The big chef got his knife from his workstation and got to work. “I love durian.”
Kacie felt bad and considered helping him, but she wasn’t as strong as he was. She rolled her eyes at Toby, who rolled his back. The initial stench of the fruit turned into delicious cooking aromas as Louie and Alia got to work at their stations. As she ate the portion of durian flesh served to her in a ramekin by Buster – and he hadn’t bothered to take the seeds out, the big ape – Kacie studied the easy rapport of her two opponents even when they were supposedly competing. They floated between each other’s stations, tasting and suggesting, passing ingredients back and forth. Louie used the durian to build the flavor of his ragu and served a fruit cup with durian, cherries, and grape tomatoes topped by crème fraiche. Alia built a chicken barbecue platter, incorporated durian into her from-scratch sauce, and added fried durian pieces to her hush puppies.
“Both excellent,” said Madame Queen after tasting. “Chef Kamara, your dish is none too creative in terms of plating, but the barbecue sauce is a revelation. Chef Alpharetto, your marinara is a bit sweeter than I care for, and the fruit cup is – meh. Strike one.”
As chefs and crew thanked each other for a good day’s work and a good day’s eating, Kacie thought how amazing it was that Louie showed no anger at his loss, nor did Alia show a feeling of triumph at her win. They did their interviews together, overlapping each other’s sound-bytes with assent at what fun it had been to cook together and learn from each other.
She grabbed Toby’s arm and slowed him as the rest slouched toward the elevators. He put his arm around her shoulders.
“If we do a cook-off, how will we handle it?” Kacie asked.
“I know one thing,” said Toby, He whispered in her ear, “I’ll be a little harder to beat than Louie was tonight.”
Kacie put her arm around his waist, just for a second. “Sure. Bring it on.”
MADAME QUEEN’S CHEF SHOWDOWN
DAY 4
Winner: Eloise
Strike One: Buster, Eloise, Kacie, Louie, Maryann, Vegas
No strikes yet: Toby, Alia